The Bird Who Cried Wolf
by AVeryStrangeBirdie
Summary: An Astarian girl with the spirit of a wolf is forced to fight in Maggie's coliseum. Where can she run to when finally set free? Across the mountains lies Sailand, and with it a slave boy with the wings of a seagull, awaiting auction after his master's death. What follows is what happens when two desperate and despairing souls meet, and begin to mend. T for violence and swearing.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey there! So I read this manga a few years ago, and it's still as sweet to read as it was the first time around. Of course, I couldn't get these two character concepts out of my head, and I thought hey, why not? So here it goes. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

She knelt on the stone floor, her coughs showing no signs of stopping. Flecks of blood were beginning to mix with spittle. The girl sighed, only to release another hacking cough that wracked her body. If she hadn't been sick before her last fight, she certainly was now, and the injuries were little help. They wanted her in the ring again tomorrow, whether against man or beast this time, she didn't know. Didn't really want to, either.

Wiping her mouth across the back of her hand, she shakily got to her feet, snarling with disgust. At herself, her surroundings, the situation and condition she was in, who could tell anymore? Stumbling over to the corner of her cell, where a threadbare mattress of hay lay, she curled up beneath the musty skins that served as her blanket. She was too drained for her growling stomach to be a concern; should she survive the next match, she'd be rewarded, hopefully with adequate food. She didn't really care, as long as she didn't have to face the wolves.

* * *

She was slapped awake for what must be the start of a new morning. Relatively docile as she was dragged from the darkness of the underground into the ground floor of the coliseum, she couldn't help but grin. There was a very special treat for her, in anticipation of a win, it seemed. Snatching the orange into her hands, she ran her fingers over its rugged surface, having difficulty in believing it was real. Fresh fruit. Oh, what she wouldn't do for just a little slice!

As she regained coherent thought, the nagging part of her mind moved to the forefront, the one that hadn't shut up since she'd tried to lock it away months and months ago. About how she was no better than a dog, responding only to the kicks and pets of her master. How low her dignity had fallen, to remain passive unless in the arena, where she'd desperately tear apart whatever faced her like a rabid beast. Right now she wanted to grind that voice into the dust; it was ruining her little moment of pleasure. An orange. A real orange. There was a burst of ecstasy sitting in her bloodied and calloused palm. She ran a clawed fingernail along the edge, savoring the trickle of juice that fell into her palm before carefully tearing apart the slices, taking her time to relish each piece. While it wasn't anywhere near enough to satisfy her stomach, her mouth was very pleased. The sharp tang of citrus was the sweetest thing she'd had in...whenever the last time she'd had fruit was. When was that, anyway?

Soon as she was done, reality came crashing back upon her. Resentment sparked in her heart. There was that voice again, the one sick of this, sick of being treated like a prize-fighter animal. But how was it her fault? It wasn't supposed to happen, she was never supposed to go into the arena, but Maggie was displeased with her... And her body responded to the wolves in kind. She glanced down at her exposed legs, the bandage she'd wrapped around her +Anima marking filthy and coming untied. Along her calf lay the sign that branded her as different, as a lesser person than those who were solely, fully human.

She cleared her throat, using her raspy voice for the first time in several days. "Where's my pay?" Nobody responded to her, all the managers deep in fake conversation. "Everyone else gets paid for this. Why am I any different? I want my pay." _Because the young Maggie hates +Anima, that's why._ She didn't know why, exactly, but there were whisperings about something that happened a few weeks before she'd gotten here. About a boy who escaped because he gained a bird's wings. Funny, the same sort of scenario trapped her here. Gritting her teeth, she stomped over to the weapons rack, snatching up dull blades and tossing them back down in frustration. Eventually she settled on a basic, short wooden staff. She'd abandon it seconds into the match, anyway.

* * *

_"And now for a match we've all been waiting for, a being with the ferocity of a beast and the intelligence of a human! Here enters the wolfgirl, Rin!"_

Ugh. What sort of introduction was that? She reluctantly entered the arena, eyes trained to the ground instead of her opponent.

_"Today, we have a special treat! After battling with a new challenger, this young champion will be pitted against the very animals who give her her strength, the wolves themselves!"_

Rin froze, her thoughts derailed. That was the one match she thought she'd never have to fight. Maggie swore, she promised that much. Everything snapped into perspective: she would get paid and she would get out of here. Somewhere else had to have more opportunities for a young girl than here. For now, though, there were bigger problems to focus on: the brutish man in front of her, a blunted axe in his hands. "Nonlethal" wasn't quite as advertised. She hurled the staff into the man's face, distracting him to give her time to scramble away and begin to change form. Her ears elongated, reforming into the fur-covered points of a canine's, her hearing improving threefold. From her nails extended long, sharpened claws, her hands reconstructing with less dexterity and more sheer power. She whipped around, facing her opponent with new eyes, ones with clearer vision and muted colors. Growling low in her throat, she crouched down, ears pinned back and aggression barely contained.

Much to her surprise, the man moved first, charging towards her with axe thrown aside and her discarded staff held between his hands in a defensive stance, which would have been effective if it was her intent to bite him. as it was, she dodged away from him, gripping her hands tightly around his dominant right arm and clamping down like a vice, hauling herself up and kicking his legs from under him. As they fell, he shifted his weight, pinning her beneath him, his demeanor changed: before he was fighting a child, now he was subduing a feral beast. He slammed the staff hard into her shoulder, then her stomach, leaving her whining and winded. As he leaned back, she shot forward, catching him by surprise and giving herself enough room to elbow him in the neck, using his own force against him when he tried to knock her out. She slammed the side of her fist into his skull, one, two, three times before his eyes rolled back and his body went slack beneath her, breath ragged with exertion.

As he was dragged from the arena, Rin felt anxiety building in her chest. The wolves were coming, not again, so she could defend herself now, who cares, not wolves...

The barred gates were dragged up, releasing the yelping pack into the ring. There were four, the alpha and his mate, the cringing omega in back, and another young male eager to prove himself and gain dominance. Rin's ears were now plastered to her skull in fear. Once the pack began circling, she dropped to all fours, her jaw extending and teeth snapping, smell heightened as a tail gradually appeared and lengthened, giving Rin the extra balance needed to keep on her feet. She wanted, more than anything, to give a display of submission to the alpha, avoid a fight, but she couldn't. They'd been starved, and she still smelled far too foreign to prevent them from using her as a meal. The only other option was to subdue the alpha and establish dominance herself.

Raising her tail and pricking up her ears, she gave a keening bay, waiting for them to make the first move. That would decide what path she'd take. When all four maintained distance, displaying more curiosity than hostility, she cautiously approached the alpha, ducking low and tapping his chin. Rin remained still, waiting for a warning growl that never came. Did that mean she was safe? His mate remained aloof, the omega was too skittish to come near, but the other male bared his teeth, leaping at her and aiming for her throat. Rin fell back, yelping, and shoved her clawed arms deep into his chest, giving a sharp bark before biting his shoulder, latching on and continuing to claw at his underbelly. He leapt away, fur bloodied and body rigid as he began circling again. Now the alpha was angered, with her or his subordinate Rin couldn't tell. The omega, eager to enhance his station in the pack, came at her next, mangy and desperate. Rin bounded out of his grasp, leaping onto his back and digging in, jaws clamped tight on one of his ears before he whined in submission. She released, once more dropping low to slink to the alpha, nuzzling the underside of his chin. This time he was not so accepting, snapping his jaws in warning as she scampered away. Rin wildly looked around the arena, searching for something she could use to her advantage. The discarded axe was too far away...the barred gate that led to the wooden entrance of the coliseum was firmly latched down...but that might change.

Reverting back to a more human form, Rin sprinted for the gate, leaping up and using her superior dexterity to climb higher than the wolves could reach. There was lots of shouting now, the spectators were loving it; the handlers were not. Giving a small grin, she jumped down to the other side, landing hard on her shoulder and rolling to her feet, shoving the wooden gates open as best she could. Rin had moved too quickly for any of Maggie's 'guards' to catch her, and the one manager who came close to snatching her was soon relieved of his weighty purse. Slipping through the doors, ignoring her throbbing shoulder and the splinters that ripped at her clothing, she ran, ran far harder than she ever had before, not allowing herself to stop until night fell and Maggie Vil was far behind her.

* * *

**A/N: Well, hopefully this is off to a good start! Rin's name wasn't used until someone else announced it because her sense of identity is a little shattered. Next chapter will introduce our other main character in a similar, de-individualized manner. The two will eventually meet, somewhere around the fourth or fifth chapter, but for now, they're on their own.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello all! So this is the next chapter, switching its focus away from Rin and onto a boy on the opposite side of the mountains...where things are even worse for +Anima than the discrimination in Astaria.  
**

* * *

He rolled over onto his back, responding to the light kick in his side. His eyes snapped open, catching a glimpse of the rising sun peeking over the window. Quickly sitting up, he folded up his blanket and placed it next to his pillow, gradually getting to his feet, shaking off tiredness and vertigo. "Good morning, boy." He bowed his head in response. "Good morning, sir."

The first time his master asked to be addressed as 'sir,' he'd been apprehensive. Was this some sort of test? After those first two years serving him, was that a signal of his standing or his disobedience? Eventually, though, he did as he was told; it was better to obey a direct order despite possible punishment than to ignore one. He'd grown used to it by now, and knew enough not to fear the man who owned him. Daisuke was relatively kind to him, and much more than he could have hoped for that first day he was changed from person to property, up on the auction block. He still wasn't sure how the old fisherman had been able to afford him, but thinking back, there probably wasn't a very high asking price. He didn't like to think about that day or the month beforehand, those first days of his new life as a +Anima.

He clutched the iron collar around his neck, more out of habit than anything. The pressure against his throat was just another thing he'd grown used to now, though it had taken him awhile to stop waking up from nightmares where it gradually tightened and led to a slow, painful strangulation. Loosening his grip, he stepped outside, grabbing a bucket and heading to the well. Next he would prepare breakfast and lunch, then head down to the pier with his master, setting out to sea again. Even though it had been four years since that day, and four years of facing the ocean daily, he still became ill with fright. Sometimes the apprehension pressed upon him so much, he wished for the strength to break through the bolts on his collar, those that had been hammered in while the metal was still hissing steam, making his captivity permanent. It was impossible, but he always crushed the thought anyways. The tag looped around the collar was his only protection, marking him as owned, saving him from being paraded around for sale again.

So back he went after getting water, eyes latched on the one-room shack he shared with the old man. Surely he'd cost more than enough to buy a decent home, something which still confused him. Why bother? The old man was in good health, although his abilities were declining in old age. He must've felt help was necessary.

Stepping through the doorway, he bowed his head again, blinking in surprise upon seeing both meals prepared and the equipment ready and waiting by the door. "Uh, s-sir? Please, I apologize, I'll be faster tomorrow, I-" Daisuke held his hand up, cutting off further speech.

"Do you know why I rarely, if ever, refer to you by name?"

What a...curious question. "I...it doesn't seem very relevant, sir."

The older man sighed, shaking his head sadly. "Because you still refuse to use mine."

But-he wasn't supposed to! He was told, very firmly, before he was put for sale, that-that... "You are never to address your master in any manner. If you must, only the utmost respect is allowed. Your master is not your friend, he is your owner." The mechanical words tumbled from his lips before any coherent thought could form. "A-also, you might just call me Sora like all the others." He quickly shut his mouth, letting the silence grow until it was so oppressive, it was almost difficult to breathe. That was the wrong thing to say, he knew it, he could tell.

* * *

_He flinched at the grip on his shoulders, fabric and flesh twisting painfully. He wouldn't cry, if he didn't cry this time maybe they would stop. The taunts of the other boys fell heavy on his ears. _

_"What, no more bruises today?"_

_"Daddy didn't beat you? Wow, I never thought it was possible to be too drunk to do that!"_

_"Why aren't you whining, Sora? Huh? What's this? Little Sora is feeling tough all of a sudden!"_

_"We should teach him a lesson. Want us to teach you, Sora? Maybe you'll learn something for once!"_

_"Oh yeah, I forgot, you're never in school. Still can't read yet? Well that's okay, there are more important things to learn!"_

_"Right, learn this, Sora. Can you understand this, Sora?"_

_"Wanna learn how to spell your name, Sora? We can show you!"_

_He clenched his fists, thrashing against their hold. "Stop calling me that! That was my mom's name!"_

_"But it's her little daughter's name too now, isn't it? Aren't I right, Sora? Daddy make you wear a dress?"_

_"NO! I'm not a girl!"_

_"You're crying like one!"_

_They were right, he had started crying. He wasn't Sora, his mom had been Sora. He'd never even met the woman, and she was the best and worst thing in his life. Maybe if she was still here, his dad wouldn't hit him, or he wouldn't call him Sora and make him pretend to be her daughter, not her son. He elbowed his captor, wiping away the tears in his eyes. Every day._

_"I'm not! And my name is Hiroto!" Knowing what came next, he bolted, panting as he tried to get away from the other boys, up the steep climb towards the ocean. He realized his mistake quickly, skidding to a stop several feet away from the cliff's drop. His peers caught up to him, tackling him to the ground. He was yanked up, dragged over to the edge of the cliff, his feet kicking up pebbles that tumbled down into the frothy waves below.  
_

_"Stop squirming or I'll drop you!"_

_"W-wait, please!" He began hyperventilating as half his body was shoved into open air, his only hope the arms of his enemies. Hands slipped along his waist, their grip tightening as it went backwards._

_"Guys, help me! He's heavy! Oh, no, no, Hiroto, just don't move, I'm sorry, okay, we're sorry."_

_As their terrified screams followed him down, all Hiroto could think was at least they'd never intended to kill him. That was something, right? He squeezed his eyes shut as the unrelenting water rushed towards him._

* * *

"Hiroto," came a sharp voice. He snapped back to attention, eyes widening as he realized what he'd just said. His breathing picked up, a sudden certainty that he'd be sent away and sold again immediately growing in his chest. Forget how inappropriate his words were, the old man wouldn't even know what he was talking about! He probably figured his slave had lost his mind.

"I-sir, I-I'm sorry, please, my tongue slipped..." There must be something he could do!

"Hiroto." He stopped his desperate, stammering pleas. "Please carry the equipment down with me."

"Yes sir."

The pair walked down in silence, the man carrying food and drink for the day while his boy had the nets slung over his shoulder. Upon reaching the boat, he tossed them over, stepping back and awaiting further instruction, like always. He knew exactly what he was supposed to go do, but he made sure to wait every morning until the request was vocalized. "Would you go scout out a good location for the day, boy?"

He nodded in reply, forcing wings to burst from his back. It was a good thing seagulls had been built to fly near salt water, or else he'd probably be useless. Then again, the incident happened over the sea-of course he'd be adapted to it. Taking a running leap off the pier, he entered the air, spending a minute to get his bearings and see where all the birds were flocking to. The sun had risen now, its beams reflecting off the water, making him squint. This ocean was clear, though, and eventually he found a good school of sea bass. Shifting with the wind, he flew back towards the boat, directing his master towards the spot. Once the anchor was dropped, he flew back down, perching on the edge of the schooner, awaiting further instruction.

"Did you ever wonder why I picked you in particular?"

Hiroto blinked, mild confusion flashing across his features. Why all the irrelevant questions today? "No, sir. I assumed it was for the obvious reason, that my Anima was of particular use to you."

"That too, but mainly because you reminded me of my son." He stared at the older man, unsure of how to respond. Why...?

Daisuke sighed, continuing once the boy didn't reply. "He became a +Anima so young, only seven. The traders gave us compensation, but how could that help? A few months later, and my wife jumped off the cliffs, no gull's wings to catch her as she fell."

Wait. How did he...people knew about how he became +Anima? "I-I..."

Daisuke held up his hand, shaking his head. "Don't bother. But it's true...you really do look like him, if I'd been able to watch him grow up."

Hiroto massaged his temples, a whole new aspect of the slave trade dawning on him. Some people were forcibly taken from loving families? He guessed it made sense, but that hadn't ever occurred to him. He'd assumed most were orphans...But that would explain all the adults, young or otherwise. If their parents managed to keep it secret, they might have lived normal lives. Then one slip up cost them everything... He nervously cleared his throat, finally asking, "Why are you telling me all this now? At all?"

Daisuke sighed, beckoning for Hiroto to come closer. The boy complied, startled as he was drawn into a hug. "Because I'm dying, my boy. And I wish there was a way to make you my heir, even if your inheritance is a boat and a shack. That day I bought you, the look you had on the auction block, I don't want you to go through it again, and for that, I am sorry."

He didn't know how to reply, but eventually settled on something simple: "How do you know you're dying? You're healthy."

"My age is making itself known, and my wife has been visiting me in my dreams. It's time for me to join her. Hiroto, I know I've never shown it, but I care about you, just remember that."

He remained speechless for a moment or two, finally swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, using his master's name for the first time. "Th-thank you...Daisuke."

The rest of the day passed in amicable silence, perhaps the first time he'd felt true contentment. When the old man went to bed for the night, Hiroto watched, prepared to wake him should the rise and fall of his chest cease. Exhaustion overtook him, however, and as the sun rose, the old man's body was cold.

He cried, perhaps for the first time in four years.

* * *

**A/N: I was always bothered by the fact that the slave trade shown didn't take into account the fact that +Anima are made, not born, and there was a possibility they were in stable homes with people who loved them, plus the age factor. I suppose I wanted to address that a bit...And yes, I'm aware that Sora is a male and female name. The next chapter will focus on Rin, but will soon be followed with how the two meet.**


End file.
